Missy Kisses
by GirlDressedInBlack
Summary: A week of Thrissy kisses.
1. Chapter 1

For forgediinfire on tumblr because they made me think about Missy and Thirteen for the whole of my work day on Saturday (damn you and also thank you if you read this).

* * *

The Mistress steps forwards, hands already moving, wanting to hold and never let go but restrained, unsure.

"Is it- really you?" She asks, voice choked by emotions that overflow in her; nervousness and worry and hope and wariness and above everything awe that it could be real.

"Yes. It's me. It's really me. I've missed you, Missy." The Doctor says, accent softening her voice as she smiles so gently, a smile of hope. She extends a hand to her old friend, an offering given freely.

The Mistress can't hold herself back for longer than a moment's decision and throws herself at the Doctor, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly while the other arm curls around the woman's back.

She looks into her eyes for a second before closing her own shut and finding the Doctor's lips on her own, needing as much as she does.

The Mistress leans into the kiss, feeling the Doctor's arms around her and letting her now free arm curve around the other woman's waist.

She opens her mouth and Missy is quick to follow, wanting to gasp for air but wanting more to stay there, with her, tongues remembering each other.

Eventually they do part and the Mistress rests her head against the Doctor's neck, looking up.

"I never want to leave you again." She says, voice low in her throat as she recovers.

"That's- that's good. I don't intend to let you out of my sight after all." The Doctor replies and from anyone else it would annoy the Mistress but the way she says it, her new voice, and the way she holds Missy and the sweetness and slight laugh behind her speech-

The Mistress smiles, a somewhat sad thing as she slides her hand to rest on the back of the other woman's neck and plays with the soft hair there.

"Good." She agrees.


	2. Chapter 2

The Mistress stands clad in jeans, a much more comfortable top than usual and a striped apron in front of the oven. She holds a wooden spoon and stirs at a thickening broth swimming with noodles and chopped veg.

Her face is much calmer than it has been for years, eyes half-lidded as she smiles a little. She is content, perhaps, rather than happy but that is something the Doctor is more than happy to see.

The Time Lady smiles, leaning against the doorway as she watches Missy.

She's even tied her hair back to stop it from getting in the food.

The Doctor must shift in some small way or have made some kind of noise, mental or physical, because the Mistress turns, smile dropping for a moment but resurfacing as she sees the other woman behind her.

"Welcome home love." She murmurs, arms outstretched and spoon discarded in the quietly bubbling pan set squarely on the metal stand over the gas flame.

"Look how domesticated I am." She jokes in a way that is curious too, trying to find out what the Doctor wants from her, what they will be now.

The Doctor can't do anything but smile and pull herself into Missy's embrace, resting a cheek against hers and catching the smell stronger in her hair.

If she wanted she could pick out the ingredients that had been used just from this but she doesn't, instead focusing on the way the other woman feels in her arms and sighing.

"Yeah- I can tell." She replies, breathing deeply, "It smells great, Missy." The Doctor says, shuffling around to hug her from behind as she gets back to cooking.

"Thank you." The Mistress says, smiling herself as she stirs the soup and leaning into the other woman's touch with one hand resting over where the Doctor's cross over her stomach.

"You don't have to- the Tardis will make sure I'm fed anyway- but I'm glad you did." The Doctor reminds her, squeezing her lightly and pressing her lips against her cheek.

"Do you want me to set a table?" She asks, changing the topic, and Missy smiles again.

"Yeah, that would be great." Is a simple reply as replies go and said without thinking but the warmth and gratitude in it as well as the returned kiss on the cheek show everything that she hasn't used words to say.


	3. Chapter 3

The Thirteenth Doctor stares at the book, eyes darting over each page and delicate wire-rimmed glasses perched half-way up her nose. There's a slight crease on its bridge with her focus as she turns the page which whispers under her touch.

The book itself is old, incredibly so, with the gold inlay which used to fill the words and patterns on the cover flaking off as she touches it, leaving smears of glitter against her hands. Under this the worn brown leather, soft from years of handling is dull but loved, almost gleaming with its importance.

At least in the eyes of its owner who had a pair of eyes even older than the book itself.

The Mistress watches from a chair beside the fire, curled up with the book on the arm of the chair and leaning against its back.

She likes to pretend she's reading whenever the Doctor looks up but she can't be blamed for thinking the Doctor, quiet and focused, is a much rarer and more valuable thing than anything she could get from a mere book.

The light warms the other woman's appearance further, smoothing out her features and making her seem deathly still with its flickering.

Her hair falls gently to just below her chin, looking like a veil of starlight and the Mistress smiles a little, untucking her legs from beneath her and standing.

Her joints click as she moves, book left behind, but the Doctor doesn't shift, still intent on her reading.

The Mistress circles until she is behind the Doctor she slides her arms around her. The Doctor moves willingly, eyes still scanning the page she's on.

"Hm?" She asks as Missy's fingers caress her shoulders.

"Do you want me to make you something to drink before I go to bed?" The Time Lady asks, chin leaning on the Doctor's shoulder.

"Yeah- that would be great, thanks. I'll be done in a bit- just give me a sec." The Doctor says distractedly.

"Sure, love. Back in a bit." Missy says, knowing when the Doctor says that that they would have to drag their sleeping body from that chair into the bed in a few hours. She presses her lips to the woman's forehead and smiles softly, releasing her back to her book.

As the Mistress goes to make some coffee which the Doctor will undoubtedly be needing she misses the Doctor's affectionate smile which breaks through her focus and the way she turns her head to watch her leave, eyes as gentle as late Sunday mornings with the midday sun glinting beyond the blinds.


	4. Chapter 4

The Mistress smiles, hand in the Doctor's as they walk through the field the grass.

"So you remember when?" The Doctor says, laughter ringing in her voice as it breaks the quiet.

Missy does.

"Yes- I do." She admits, brushing the back of her hand against the Doctor's thigh, leaning against them with the next step just to feel the closeness.

"Do you want to race?" The Doctor asks, wide grin on her face and warmth shining in her eyes which crease as she squeezes Missy's hand.

The Mistress can't help but laugh, releasing the other Time Lady's hand.

"Yes then-" She agrees, mid-sentence when the Doctor takes off.

The Master only laughs more, voice spilling into the silent air.

"Where to though?" She calls out after the other woman, following after her.

"Who knows?" The Doctor calls back, laughing too.

The Mistress picks up the pace, bare feet making quick work of the ground between them. She can hear them both breathing heavily. Not enough to set off their bypass systems but enough that their laughter draws into huffs of amusement.

She grabs for the other woman, pulling her arm and crashing them both into the ground, still laughing.

"I win." Missy says, merriment flitting around them both.

The Doctor smiles from beneath her, mischief on her face.

"I think you mean-" She begins and pushes up, knocking the Mistress off her and moving to straddle her stomach proudly.

"I think you mean that I win." The Doctor gasps between breaths, laughing.

"No." Missy insists, hands flying up to the Doctor's waist and dancing over her sides.

"I win." She claims as the Doctor doubles over in hysterics, hands coming to her sides to try and defend herself against the onslaught.

The Doctor manages to grab one of the Mistress' hands and cheers in triumph amid the peels of laughter they're both drowning in.

"I win." She declares and Missy can't deny it, laughing too hard.

Her gaze shifts them and she falls quiet, happiness shining through her eyes as she gently brings the Mistress' hand to her lips.

She presses her lips against the other woman's knuckles, slightly dirtied by their playing around.

She turns Missy's hand over, held in both of hers, and kisses the palm.

She holds her wrist to her face and kisses there too, gentle against her pulse.

The Mistress tilts her head, confused but still smiling.

"What was that for?" She asks, content to stay like this.

The Doctor shrugs, holding Missy's hand in hers again as she rolls off her to lay next to her in the grass.

"I like your hands." She answers.

The Mistress wraps her arms around her, entwining their fingers.

"That's good." She murmurs into the Doctor's hair.

"I like yours too."


	5. Chapter 5

They're just walking, passing each other in the Tardis corridors but the sight of the Doctor catches the Mistress in some indefinable way.

She looks near enough the same as always, sure, but the Time Lady somehow seems more present, more real and there, than she normally does to Missy. She smiles and it's as if the Mistress had looked into the sun at midday.

The Mistress takes her hand as they pass, softly pulling her to a stop.

"Hey." The Doctor says by way of greeting, grinning and squeezing Missy's hand lightly.

Missy smiles after a moment, warmth in her eyes as she looks into the other woman's.

"Hey." She murmurs back, leaning in and brushing her lips over the Doctor's, eyes slipping closed. Her hand drops the Doctor's as her hands slip around her waist loosely. The Doctor's curl around her neck, pulling her closer and pressing them together.

The Doctor parts her lips and the Mistress follows, tongue gentle against the other's.

They stay like that for either a second or hours- neither cares to tell- before eventually parting.

"What was that for?" The Doctor asks, voice smoothed into an almost-hum.

"I missed you." The Mistress says, remembering how long it took for them to be reunited.

"I don't want to miss you like that again." She whispers.


	6. Chapter 6

The Mistress slips into bed, haphazardly pulling the mess of hand-knitted blankets and the thick duvet up to her chin. She shivers lightly, closing her eyes briefly at the comfort of being under covers.

She swears the Doctor turns down the temperature in her room just so Missy stays in bed with her longer.

Not that she's complaining much.

It's been a long day and Missy is more than glad to settle into a soft bed which smells of home as she breathes in deep. She finds herself smiling again, eyes shut and nose pushed into the sheets.

The Doctor's probably puttering about on the Tardis somewhere so for now she has the bed to herself. Admittedly she could have her own bed to herself at any time but the Time Lady just feels safer, younger and more loved even by lying somewhere the Doctor does.

It's silly but she's far too old to be concerned by being seen or thought of as silly by anyone, let alone her oldest and most precious friend.

The Mistress yawns, feeling her mind starts to drift.

"You know, you look really cute like that." Comes a voice which would make her jump if a distant part of her mind wasn't fixated on the whereabouts of its owner at all times. She managed the energy to blink one eye open.

"Hmm?" She asks, staring into warm brown eyes and a bright smile as she yawns again behind the covers.

"Don't worry." The Doctor says, affection clear in her smile and gentle voice if not in the way she slides closer to Missy and presses their lips together.

Missy doesn't reply with much other than letting her eyes close again sleepily, smiling against The Doctor's lips.

The Doctor carefully slings an arm over the Mistress' waist and a leg over hers and tucks her own head into the other Time Lady's chest.

"Just sleep." The Doctor says, breath warm against Missy's skin as she idly draws patterns and words with her index finger on the darker haired woman's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7

And angst for the end because I really can't resist.

* * *

The Doctor shifts in her sleep, turning over with a frown etched into her face. Her lips are thin, pressed together as her fingers twitch.

The Mistress watches her with concern, having relocated herself to the wicker chair after displacing the myriad of colours and patterns which had previously been on it (bar the few knitted blankets it was supposed to hold). Her fingers wrap around a mug of tea- some fruit flavour, unsweetened.

It doesn't really matter because she can't drink it right now.

The Time Lady had tried to wake the Doctor but in the throws of a dream like this there's nothing she can do except wait it out.

So that's what Missy is doing.

Impatiently.

There's a cruelty in that she can't do anything but watch the Doctor's movements, knowing she's thrashing in her own mind, and feel the crashing of the nightmare against her mental shields, impressions of blood and heat and shouting beating against the doors.

She could try and follow the Doctor down.

She could throw herself into the tumultuous memories, breathe in that pain and choke on fear.

She could dive in and grab the Doctor, try to yank her from her past, and maybe it would work.

Maybe together they could be free of everything they've faced- maybe they will.

Maybe.

But the truth is that the Mistress isn't anywhere near as strong as she used to be.

All it could take would be that constriction of reality to horror and she would break.

Maybe.

But that maybe is enough to stop her.

Maybe she could help, maybe she can't.

She's afraid, more than anything.

So Missy quietly places down the chipped mug, the thunk of porcelain against wood sounding loud in the silence.

The Mistress bends down, kneeling on the Doctor's side of her bed- _their_ bed- and takes the Doctor's face in her hands, thumbs smoothing at the tears that have slipped free.

These are her fault.

The Doctor's hand comes up, limp around her wrist as she tries to pull it from her face as it overlaps with her nightmare.

Missy ignores her, resting her forehead on the Doctor's and feeling the crease between the other Time Lady's brow decrease a little.

Her eyes are closed but she feels it distinctly the moment the Doctor wakes up, the suddenly fierce grip on her wrist and lips on hers being an incredibly good signifier. The fingers which follow, digging into the back of her neck desperately as she opens her mouth offer an equally good confirmation.

The Mistress clambers into the sliver of space between the edge of the bed and the Doctor, letting herself be pulled closer as the other woman trembles, tongue tangled around hers. Missy's arms slip, more gentle, to hold her friend, her lover as she clings tight as if to pull them into one.

Eventually she pulls back and the Mistress blinks open, staring at the Doctor's face, pale, eyes shut and the remnants of tears still on her face, breathing fast.

She tucks herself into the Mistress, not apologising for the marks she hasn't yet seen or the way she still claws at her.

The Doctor's hair itches her throat, pushed hard against it but the Mistress just holds her gently, hands running up and down her back.

"Shh. It's okay. I'm here." She murmurs, letting the Doctor sob into the thin nightshirt she had been wearing.

"Shh. It's okay."


End file.
